FIRE AND BRIMSTONE. (05/11/14)

This evening is Bonfire Night in the UK when we build a great big fire and pop an effigy of that naughty papist Guido Fawkes on top. I am not a papist but do have more than a little sympathy for what he tried to do. I must have anarchist tendencies. In my life time we still have 650 MPs, loads in Brussels lots more on mega money in local councils. It is a barking mad way to run a country. Politicians breed faster than rats and are about as much use.

I can remember some really good Bonfire nights. The ones when I was a child were magical. Those in my late teens were frustrating, cuddling cold wet girls and being brave with fireworks only to have them warm up and cheer up in the bosom of their and worse still my family. Whilst I sat there rubbing lard into my burnt digits. The ones in the late eighties and early nineties were best, we substituted Guido for Margaret Thatcher;  had the Busies round in 89. Tried to call me a seditionist. He went away when he found out the evidence had gone up in flames…..What is a seditionist? Happen he meant sodomist. I am not one of those though I have been close  thousands of times. It’s just how ladies are made. Had it happened I would have pleaded guilty but with no malice of forethought.

How did I get into all this? It’s a lovely sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. I went to find Moffat Well. I have tried incorporating it on several walks over the years but never found it. Today I was in the town when I was accosted by the lass I’d asked earlier in the week. She is perfect. Tall, rangy even, Taller than me with a big bobble hat on. She asked if I’d found the well. I thought Cracked It. No such luck. She thought I was thick. She said it’s easy just go up Well Street turn into Well Road and keep going up hill…….Bugger. I don’t like road walking and neither do the dogs, they are a pain on the lead so I found another way. Yet again. I got lost again. Fortunately I met a farmer doing something with his sheep and a couple of collies. I got my two to sit and stay and he shouted stay. Maybe it was his voice that convinced Alf and Moll.

He was trying to get a flock of young whethers back to his farm and we were in the right place. Off they went presumably in the right direction but he stopped his quad bike next to me to say thanks. I asked him where the well was and he said just there. Just there was a mile away.  It is in those pine trees. There is a gorge in between. He said follow us and Alf helped keep the sheep in order. He loves the job but hasn’t a clue he just follows the collies. He only has little legs so has to cut corners to keep up. Moly doesn’t bother. I hitched a ride on the quad and eventually we found the road. I dismounted and found my dogs. I hopped off by a wonderful bridge over the gorge.

    This doesn’t look much of a bridge and it won’t. It has got new tarmac.

    It is a special bridge it has these wonderful observation platforms built in.. Port and starboard.

     Somewhere down there is Birnock Water. It’s worth a look but these vistas created by our Victorian forebears should be looked after.

     It is a cracking bridge. It leads in a few hundred uphill yards to……….

     The clump of pines and this little shed.

      At long last I have found Moffat Well. It is gorgeous and I will come back for more pictures.

      It is a spring rather than a well. It isn’t that hot and it tastes horrid.  It smells quite strongly of hydrogen sulphide. I suspect the acidic run off has found it’s way into this thermal source. Acids and sulphurs don’t mix well.Try opening a rotten egg. I‘m sorry the picture is so naff . It is the sun shining in and railings and me. It is a solution of brimstone It stinks.  

     The plaque. The words and Music.

I know this is already a long post but I did my best to snap these for John Edwards. I have no idea if they are rare but can send you high resolution ones. I can’t be arsed with iPads but will work out where I was when I took them. Roughly, Dumfries and Galloway. more precisely Moffat at the corner of Well street and Well road…

     And if I remember rightly in the wall opposite Ballplay road. That’s near the old Academy. Scottish for proper school.

Tonight I‘ll struggle with the dogs and the fireworks. Molly isn’t keen but Alfie waits for the next big Roman Candle or Rocket that showers sparks. He loves them. Yaps at them and growels when the sky is dark and pisses and yips at a good show of colour with an audio of bangs. I’ll leave Moll in and take Alf out.

That’s all and not before time. Have fun.